I was walking uphill,
Panting, dragging my unwilling belly,
A self given front pack,
What a lousy invention of my tick tacks.
Breathing in the cold mountain air,
Looking at the coulds, and mist
Both innocently conniving with the fresh morning hair,
The sun had risen but was hidden behind the blue mountain,
Nature was brimming on both sides of his lap.
Then I realised, I was on both sides,
Just as you,
Spanning the cold air, through the gush of its youth,
The hills and vales with the brooks that sprung in their breaths,
Were nothing but you, me and you's and me's
Living since and eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem